


just an illusion

by paralysion



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brief Mentions of Firearms, Distrust, Dom Loki (Marvel), Drunk Thor (Marvel), F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Protective Loki (Marvel), Shapeshifter Loki (Marvel), Thor Needs a Hug (Marvel), mentions of blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27952235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paralysion/pseuds/paralysion
Summary: while attending a formal celebration among asgard, loki expresses his distaste for your sudden doting upon his brother.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Kudos: 30





	just an illusion

an orgy of self-assertive conversations had not been your first pick of entertainment for the evening, but loki’s persistence was no match for you nor the novel you “so desperately need to finish”. he had recently returned from battle, a few bumps and bruises, but with cause to celebrate. now you stood, adorned in a ridiculously lavish garment and enough jewelry to curse you with a neckache. nonetheless, you hadn’t complained. you had missed your other half profoundly, and he’d reciprocated your feelings with the gifts you’d been exhibited in tonight. however, with loki blotting up the many thanks of asgard’s citizens, you found yourself forsaken and left to fall into the colloquy of his dearest brother. 

any maiden of asgard that possessed a lick of common sense would have basked in the full attention of the prince, but with his fresh mourning of his dear jane’s exile, you desperately searched for grounds of abscond. to call him a mess would be kind, and there were only so many sympathetic smiles and solace-sought backrubs you could manage. 

“no season is eternal,” you attempted to comfort the moping daemon, dodging any inquisitive brow-lifts as you lead him away from the bar. you refused to allow him to wallow in self-pity, especially among those who bowed in his presence. you insisted he indulged in a long night of rest instead, watching as he stumbled down the broad walls of the otherwise known castle and toward his chamber.

once you’d managed your calculated escape, you foraged for a safe haven among the chaos of the evening. perhaps you should’ve been grateful loki had taken the liberty to invite you, a measly mortal, to relish in the beauty asgard’s celebrations offered. the corset you wore which, quite literally, sucked the vitality out of you suggested otherwise. 

it was often loki spoiled you with such extortionate gifts. you were that of a small lineup that had managed to earn his safe-kept heart, and while it had taken patience, the wait was well worth the prize. he was divorced from feeling, and surprisingly, extremely self-aware. he did his best to repay your resilience with sweet nothings and extravagant favors. 

“you do look rather ravishing, milady.” an unsung voice interjected your short-lived perusal, his honeyed words demanding for your eyes to risk a glance at his face. you recognized the shadow to be thor, your diversion for the past hour and the ominous figure that had stalked you into the opulent bathroom. the meticulous fumble of your emerald earrings betrayed the scowl that hindered your features. his words felt plump, no longer accompanied with the drunken sorrow he insisted only moments ago. "my brother has great taste." 

“thank you.” you uttered instead, traces of hesitance lacing within your tone. you pursed your lips, twirling to meet the god face to face. 

“isn’t loki a lucky numen?” he purred, approaching with a certain saunter that made your insides twirl— the bad kind of butterflies. 

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust thor— it was that you _knew_ thor. his voice was nearly, on no account, ever cloaked in such precariousness. 

“i believe myself to be the lucky one.” you mentioned, turning your back to him in an attempt to halt his advances. your voice was honest, but your eyes danced with uncertainty; had you blindly placed your trust in thor? perhaps he had finally succumbed to the illusions of his ego? loki would agree. 

“i can’t help but wonder if i could be, too.” his shit-eating grin spoke paragraphs itself, though that didn’t keep him from running a calloused fingertip along your gown’s zipper. 

your heart raced at his proximity, battling for first place with your mind that had practically overheated with both discomfort and bewilderment. his lust was not that of your first concerns, and definitely not one you’d expected to address in your lifetime. 

“my heart lies with loki.” he was drunk, you reasoned.

“is that true?” he accused, punctuating his words with a snipe at your waist. he twirled you directly into his embrace, and not one of warmth. “because _i_ find that hard to believe, little dove.” his tone, while doused in rage, was all-too-familiar. you couldn’t escape loki’s wrath, even in death.

your glare softened, a knowing twitch possessing the corner of your lips. “you’re much too easy, aren’t you?” you savvied, analyzing the broken veneer before you. a flash of green ensued and your boyfriend emerged, a stubborn scoff breaking the tension between you. 

“do you find leisure risking my honor in front of my entire kingdom? you guffawed at his subpar jokes and bloomed blushes at his overtures. heavens, i could practically see the line of drool falling from your lips across the table.” the low, primal-like growl from his chest offered quite the distraction from his furious performance. 

being loki’s better half was never easy— he probed and avenged any possible threat to your well being, and while it should’ve turned you away, it made you feel cherished. silently, you enjoyed witnessing your pursuer quiver in fear. you enjoyed the gory ends loki was willing to meet to keep you as his ever-devoted servant. and you particularly enjoyed the orchestra of moans you’d coax out of him as you, in his own words, “put your mouth to much better use”. however, as much as you preferred being forced to your knees, that wasn’t an excuse to ensue a family quarrel. 

“bitten by the green-eyed monster, have you?” you chaffed, eyes rolling as you approached the brooding stance of your boyfriend. he could scowl until his features froze; his volatile behavior had yet to sway you. he was the synonym to mistrust; as the rightful god of mischief, he was born into the nine realms a gun, and all he required were bullets to fire. needless to say, life had done well at introducing him to the many inevitable cruelties it had to offer. so far, he’d determined you were the only pure and holy thing it had birthed. 

you palmed at his shoulders, and as much as he huffed and puffed, you felt the tension slip from under the thick muscle. he knew as much as you did that your gambits were innocent. you were, in all ways possible, his. you made sure to remind him of that each night through a handful of affectionate glances and an evident, often badgering, concern for his welfare. your retinas composed nothing but heart-shaped irises when it came to him. while many called it puppy love, you knew exactly where you planned to be when your ends neared.

it was his turn to roll his eyes. “and you enjoy getting on my nerves.” he tilted his head back, exposing his perfectly crafted jaw to spit out an airy chuckle. to disagree would be a sin. 

“show your brother mercy, if you will. i need some mode of transportation to return home this upcoming holiday.” you recalled, reminding him of the damage that had ensued from the last tragic brawl that had broken out on asgard. 

he let out a heavy sigh in response, taking advantage of his reflexes in order to entrap your forearm between his fist before you could make your exit. 

“you trust me, don’t you?” you inquired through a whisper. as much as you and loki enjoyed a classic roleplay of tom and jerry, you needed to know he recognized your facetious acts of defiance.

he smiled in return. that was enough for you. 

“trust is a dangerous thing for a man like me to have.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first post of (hopefully) plenty. i’m majorly focused on short drabbles for almost any of the mcu characters, though i believe i’ll draw most inspiration from loki. perhaps some longer works will appear in the future. however, i hope you enjoy! <3


End file.
